The Evolutionary Void (71 page)

“Ah, right.”

Gore sighed in exasperation.

The Delivery Man wasn’t sure just how much of that attitude was for his
benefit. As he forked up more risotto, the
Last Throw
emerged back into spacetime. Warning icons immediately popped up in his
exovision, along with a series of external sensor feeds. A quick status review
showed the force fields could cope with the current exposure level of radiation
and heat. Hysradar return of the corona and photosphere was fuzzy, distorted by
the massive star’s gravity. Even the quantum field resonance was degraded.

“We need to get closer,” Gore announced.

The Delivery Man knew better than to argue as they began to accelerate in
toward the star at ten gees. He just hoped that Gore wouldn’t try to tough out
the heat. The way the gold man was wired, it was a distinct possibility.

There were no borderguards within ten million kilometers of the star, and
the few that did cover that section of the Anomine solar system showed no
interest in their flight. Nor were there any other kind of stations, only a
host of asteroidal junk and burned-out comet heads. The closest large object
was the innermost planet at seventeen million kilometers out, a baked rock with
a day three and a half times the length of its year, allowing its surface to
become semimolten at high noon. It was only the starship that had followed them
from the Leo Twins that showed any interest in their exploratory flight,
remaining five million kilometers away and still keeping itself stealthed.

The
Last Throw
’s safe deflection capacity
limit was reached at approximately a million kilometers above the fluctuating
plasma of the photosphere, leaving them swimming through the thin,
ultravolatile corona. Giant streamers of plasma arched up from the terrible
nuclear maelstrom below, threatening to engulf the little ship as they expanded
into frayed particle typhoons rushing along the flux lines.

Sensors probed down into the inferno, seeking out any anomaly amid the
superheated hydrogen. The starship completed an equatorial orbit and shifted
inclination slightly, scanning a new section of the star’s surface. Eight
orbits later they found it.

A lenticular force field two thousand kilometers below the surface of the
convection zone. Hysradar revealed it to be fifty kilometers wide. Intense
gravatonic manipulation was keeping it in place against the force of the
hydrogen currents that otherwise would have expelled it up into the photosphere
at a respectable percentage of lightspeed.

“That’s definitely our power siphon,” Gore said. Hysradar showed them the
flux lines swirling around the disc in odd patterns. The force field appeared
to be slightly porous, allowing matter to leak inward at the edge.

“Why not just use a mass energy converter?” the Delivery Man mused.

“Check the neutrino emissions; only a mass-energy converter will give those
kinds of readings,” Gore said. “And look at it. All it’s doing now is holding
position, and see how much mass it’s converting just to do that, because sure
as commies complain about fairness, that intake ain’t flowing out anywhere
afterward. This is the mother of all turbo-drive converters.”

“Okay, so we’ve proved it’s there and still functioning. Now what?”

“Our force fields wouldn’t get us halfway, but the only way we can access
it and infiltrate is to go down and rendezvous—possibly even dock, or at least
cling on and start drilling into the thing’s brain.”

The Delivery Man gave him a frankly scared look. “You’re shitting me.”

“Wish I were, son. Don’t panic. The replicator we have on board is
high-order. We’ll have to churn out some advanced force field generators to
upgrade the
Last Throw
’s defenses. Once they’re
beefed up to Stardiver standard, we’ll drop into the convection zone and switch
the power back on to the elevation mechanism. Well … when I say us, I mean
you.”

“It looks impressive,” Catriona Saleeb said.

“Yes.” For once Troblum felt content. He looked at the featureless suit
of matte gray armor standing in the middle of the cabin with its round helmet
almost touching the ceiling. It was big, adding about twenty-five percent to
his existing bulk. That didn’t matter; the electromuscle bands could move it
around easily enough. Walking would be effortless. As would flying, thanks to
the little regrav unit he’d incorporated. There were no weapons, of course; he
couldn’t even think along those lines. But the defenses … He would be safe
anywhere. In other words, he could even face the Cat and not piss himself as he
had on Sholapur.

I should have built one of these a long time ago
.

At his order the two small assemblybots crawled down the suit like
oversize spiders and scuttled away. He reached out to the table where his snack
rested and picked up a wedge of the club sandwich.

His exovision display showed him the Spike, now a mere three light-years
away. Its anchor mechanism was creating a huge distortion that extended out
from spacetime to warp the surrounding quantum fields. He found the effect
fascinating; it was nothing like a human hyperdrive. Unfortunately, the
Mellanie’s Redemption
lacked the kind of sensors that
could run a truly comprehensive scan.

Troblum finished the snack, washed it down with some Dutch lager, and
started putting on the armor suit. By the time he was comfortably ensconced,
the starship had dropped out of hyperspace two thousand kilometers out from the
Spike’s sunward side. Visual sensors showed him the fantastic curving triangle
of metallic chambers glistening in the bright sunlight like silver bubbles.
Dark tubes wove between them in complex convolutions. He immediately understood
why the crew of the navy ship that had discovered it believed they’d found the
galaxy’s biggest starship; the shape was intrinsically aerodynamic. Space on
either side of the giant alien habitat was filled with the dull glimmer of the
Hot Ring arching away to infinity, bolstering the notion that it was frozen in
midemergence.

He flew the starship across the sunward surface, accelerating to match
the structure’s unnatural orbital vector. Bright flashes of blue-white sunlight
burst from the mirror facets of the sail shape as
Mellanie’s
Redemption
moved above the uneven segments. Sensors scanned landing pads
dotted all along the winding H-congruous transport tubes, searching out a
specific profile. The
Mellanie’s Redemption
certainly hadn’t been able to track their target in stealth mode during the flight;
he was just hoping they’d arrived in time.

“There they are,” he said finally.

“Oscar’s ship?” Catriona asked.

“Yeah. They’ve landed close to Octoron. That figures; it’s the largest
human settlement.” He ordered the smartcore to put them down on an empty pad
two kilometers from Oscar’s ship. A weak localized gravity field came on as
soon as they touched down, but Troblum kept the ultradrive powered up just in
case. The smartcore aimed a communication laser at the starship he’d followed
from the Greater Commonwealth. “I’d like to speak to Oscar Monroe, please,” he
said when his u-shadow told him a connection had been accepted.

“And you must be Troblum,” Oscar said.

The burst of fright that came from hearing his name made him twitch.
Electromuscle amplified the motion. His armor helmet hit the cabin ceiling.
Secondary thought routines immediately brought up the command for
Mellanie’s Redemption
to power straight into hyperspace
and flee. A single thought was all it would take to trigger it. “How did you
know my name?”

“Paula Myo said you might make contact.”

“How did she know?” Even as he asked, he knew the SI had told her, had
betrayed him.

“Damned if I know,” Oscar said. “She scares the shit out of me, and we go
way back. Then again, how did you know I was on board the
Elvin’s
Payback
?”

“Is that the name of your ship? What was he like?”

“Adam? Like me, misguided in that way only the truly young can be. Is
that what you wanted to ask?”

“No. I may be able to help.”

“How’s that?”

“I know about the Swarm. I helped build it. Ozzie, Araminta, and Inigo
might find that useful.”

There was a long pause. “I’m sure they would. We’ve already made contact
with Ozzie. There’s a capsule coming to collect us from our airlock in ten
minutes. Why don’t we fly over to yours straight after.”

“Okay. I’ll wait for you.”

Afterward he stood on a vast snow-swept tundra, completely naked yet
feeling no pain. Somewhere in the distance tall mountains with fearsome rocky
pinnacles guarded the edge of the rough icy country, a geological wall between
civilization and the wild where he had come from. He wasn’t cold despite the
harsh wind and flurries of snow brushing against him. This was home, after all,
his one refuge against the rest of his life and all the anguish it brought
whenever he lived it.

It was daytime, yet the sun was invisible behind the low gray clouds that
filled the sky. He walked across the frozen ground, his feet leaving crisp
indentations in the firmly packed snow. From somewhere out amid the rolling
folds of this austere landscape he could hear the snorting and stamping of
horses. Then a wild herd of the giant animals charged over a distant crest,
tossing their mighty heads, horns slashing at the frosty air. He smiled in
delight, remembering times when he’d ridden the breed for no reason other than
enjoyment, taking trips to other villages, meeting friends, practicing his
saddle skills, the formalized ancient fighting techniques that all the
youngsters sought to master. Back before—

It wasn’t snow brushing against his skin anymore. He plucked one of the
slowly drifting particles out of the air only for it to disintegrate between
his fingers. Ash. Powder puffed up from beneath the soles of his feet as each
footfall became soft. Ash covered the land, choking grass and tree alike,
ruining the rich living terrain. The blanket of ash blew away from a high mound
ahead of him, revealing it to be the corpse of a huge winged creature. Feathers
fell like autumn leaves to expose dry skin pulled tight over a sturdy skeleton.

“No,” he exclaimed. The king eagles were the most magnificent of Far
Away’s creatures. Countless times he had sat astride one and soared through the
splendid sapphire sky.

Orange light shimmered across the desolate landscape. He spun around to
see the mountains erupting, their sharp pinnacles disintegrating as lava gushed
upward. Massive explosion plumes clotted the sky, surging outward.

There were footfalls in the ash carpet behind him. The stench of burning
flesh grew and grew until he thought he would choke on the cloying fumes.

“This is not your sanctuary,” she said. “This is where I nurtured you.
This is where your heart belongs. This is mine. You are mine.”

He couldn’t turn around. Couldn’t face her. To do so would be to lose, to
be consumed by pain and diseased love.

Gold sunlight speared through the suffocating shroud of ash, a single
incandescent ray falling across him. He shielded his eyes from it, cowering.

“Come on, son,” a kindly voice said. “This is the way. This is your
future. This is your redemption.”

Ash clouds boiled high and fast, towering above him, taking form. The
beautiful golden light held. He stretched his arms out, reaching for—

“Wooah!” Aaron woke and sat up fast, arms windmilling against the thin
sheet that was wrapped around him. “Shitfuck!” His body was sweating profusely,
making the silk sticky against him.

The room was on the first floor of Ozzie’s house, with a single bed in
the middle, some crude wooden furniture, and a window with the big shutters
firmly closed. Nonetheless, light was stealing around the edges. Allowing him
to see—“Shit!” he yelped.

Myraian was sitting on the end of the bed, her legs folded neatly as she
regarded him thoughtfully. Today her hair was green and blue. Purple skinlight
shone through a loose white lace top.